Darkblade: Legends (Part 1) IC

[Rethel34]

D A R K B L A D E
LEGENDS

PART 1 -- DESTRUCTION
PROLOGUE -- Blood is Spilled

The continent of Elfiné, named for the god who forged it. This god once wielded a blade so powerful that mortal man could not touch it without death befalling them unless they had been blessed by Elfiné himself. His two daughters were Aurora and Avana, who were polar opposites. Aurora was the Goddess of Harmony and Balance, while Avana was Goddess of Chaos and Ruin. Naturally, as he was not entirely perfect, Elfiné began to favor Aurora. Resenting her father, Avana forged her own blade--the infamous Darkblade. With its power, she summoned a massive army that took her father by surprise, and she sealed him within his own weapon, Excalibur, never to escape. Aurora was now filled with anger, and forged her own blade, known as Brightsteel, and used it to fight her sister. With the help of all the living beings of the northern lands, she battled Avana's army of monsters and undead in a massive war.

When Aurora challenged her sister, she won, taking the Darkblade and sealing her own sister within it, as she could not actually slay her sister. However, it was not enough to save the northern region from apocalyptic ruin. Aurora turned to one newly formed nation in the south--Edea--to house the Darkblade while she focused her attention on the north.

Now, many generations later, Geraden has declared war on Edea, striking at every point along the border. Meanwhile, Edea is also attempting to hold off beast warriors from Exotria, who hold a grudge against any and all humans. The survival of Edea hangs in the balance. Many are hoping for a miracle, as it may be the only way than Edea will win this war. This miracle will have to come from a group of Edean soldiers, who will soon become more important than they ever dreamed...

0==[=======>

General Thane marched alongside six other men. only two of whom were experienced veterans. As of late, the general had become worried about the nation and Edea, as the defense units were more often than not merely thrown together. Edea had been turning to mercenaries and drafting civilians to fend off the Geraden assaults, and even then, their numbers were spread thin. It was a dark age for the nation indeed, as the Darkblade had been acting up recently, as if reacting to the war. Thane had hardly been able to touch it, but now it remained wrapped in a thick bundle in his pack.

He was travelling to Fort Bythorn in western Edea, where he had been informed that four additional troops were waiting for him. Three of his reinforcements seemed to be recent recruits. The fourth, however, was supposedly "The Storm" Drake Silvernail, one of the fastest men in the Edean Army. Thane wasn't worried about Drake's skill, but he was about the others, even some of the men with him.

It was late afternoon when the fort came within view, standing proud upon a short hill in the majestic sunset. He admired it for a moment before taking a deep breath and moving forward. Things weren't going to get easier for quite some time.

0==[=======>

Warde excused himself from the mess hall of Fort Bythorn and made his way out of the fort. He felt odd inside. He wasn't used to being a soldier. He felt the air blowing around him and focused his mind. He hadn't practiced magic for the past week, and he felt like he would lose his touch, so he began scouring his mind for the incantation his master had taught him long ago.

It was a simple spell, one that would do him little good in a real fight, but it was always something he would do to help focus his mind. He smiled slightly as the spell took effect and his words flowed along the wind which he now controlled. He directed it toward the base of a tree where the ground was littered with leaves of brown, red, yellow, and orange. The gentle breeze which he stirred lifted the leaves, and as he commanded the wind, they began to circle the base of the tree, forming a small whirlwind around it. It was a beautiful sight, but it wasn't enough to focus him completely. In fact, controlling the wind only alerted him to the frigidness of the air around him.

Releasing the leaves and his control over the wind, he began to chant another simple spell that could heat him. Instantly he felt warmth flooding him, but he could do no more than that. After a moment, he decided that the sun had fallen low enough on the horizon, and he retreated back into the fort.

In a larger room of the fort where a fireplace was located, he found a number of others. The room was dark and cold except for the two torches on either side of the doorway and two small windows on the opposite side of the room. Making his way to the fireplace, he crouched in front of it, making sure a decent amount of firewood was inside, and began muttering a few words of yet another spell. When he finished, he cupped his hand to his mouth and breathed through it, creating a thin stream of flame that licked the firewood, then ignited it.

He thought he noticed some of the people in the room glance over, but if so, they were momentary gestures, and hardly noticeable enough to be sure that the action had even been made. After he was satisfied with the size of the fire, he found a small wooden stool and pulled it close to the fire so he could warm himself.

[Skieth]

Drake was over in the bar side of the mess hall looking over at the boy who started the fire. He tapped his fingers on the worn wooden bar top without looking away from the boy. "Get me glass of Ale." he said to the bartender. The old war vet behind the counter groaned at the request but begrudgingly filled up the mug and slammed it on the counter. Drake wrapped his hand around the cold glass, and took a quick swig. He cleared his throat ,due to the terrible taste, before slamming the drink back on the counter. He wiped the foam away from his lip with his arm. Drake took some time to look around at everyone in the fort. He had been around many forts but they all held the same people. You have your vets who have either become happy killers, or just another empty shell. Then there are the recruits, who either stupidly want to make their first kill, or the few who just don't seem to know whether they really want to be here.

Just about everyone knew of Drake in the forts. Kinda hard not to a man with a reputation like his is hard to avoid. Unfortunately this occasionally opens up a challenge. A man walked up to Drake grabbed Drake's arm. "Hey Storm why don't you and me step outside, and see who is better with a blade huh?" the guys said laughing. Drake squezzed his nose smelling the thick fume of ale on the man's breath.

"Why don't you let me go before I make your headache allot worse for you in the morning." he said trying to laugh a bit to show he wasn't wanting a fight.

"Well I think I deserve those tattoo's more than you do." The man whispered in his ear. Right as the man finished his sentence it was obvious it struck a nerve in Drake. He put his tongue to his cheek and started grinning. Drake then met eye contact with the drunk for a split second before he made the man regret his words. Drake used his free hand to grab the handle of his sword at his side slamming the butt of the sword into the man's groin. The man released his grip on Drake's arm groaning in pain. Then Drake grabbed the drunk's head slamming it on one of the wooden tables.

"Learn your place next time you decide to pick a fight, cause next time I'm going use more than just the butt of blade against you." he said grinning down at the man. He patted the mans cheek a couple times before moving over to the boy he saw make the fire earlier. He was behind the boy when he decided to speak "So who taught you how to play with fire?" Drake said raising an eyebrow with a slight grin on his face. He wasn't big on magic. He had a small belief battle should be hand to hand but he did find magic slightly entertaining.

[Veridis quo]

A leaf danced and swirled in the cold wind, somehow reaching altitudes all too high for its kind. It caught a gleam of the setting sun and almost seemed to glow like bright amber before it started making its way back down to earth. A solitary figure stood in the courtyard by the hillside. He looked up, and the leaf glided down to him like a slow bird of prey. One hand casually resting on the hilt of his second-hand iron sword, the figure held out his other to catch the leaf for a brief moment, until he let it go back into the wind, off to its next destination. His blue scarf danced in the same direction as the leaf went off.

The figure was Rael Windstill, a young noble whose name meant nothing now.

Behind him, soldiers marched to and fro in the courtyard, mostly with stern looks on their faces. They moved between tents and barracks, carrying various tasks. Some were training and sparring with each other, others were carrying weapons and equipment. Being the son of a diplomat, and even a capable one himself, Rael had already known about the state of affairs in Edea. The nation was fighting two wars at once, and every new recruit like him was taken in at an instant's notice.

He had been given an old iron sword. In all of his swordsmanship training as the son of a noble, Rael had always been presented with a blade that represented craftsmanship at its finest. Holding something like this felt different. The whole idea of being a soldier made him uneasy. Perhaps Rael had made the wrong choice. Was it possible, that in a fit of anger and confusion, Rael had acted rashly in his decision to join the military? It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go, and he didn't really care if he was in over his head at this point. Still, the young noble wasn't cut out to be a soldier, even if he was strong and had a bit of training. The fact that he was alive right now seemed like an odd struck of luck to begin with.

He thought about his family. Snapshots of what happened at the carriage flashed in his mind. In an attempt to escape the feelings that came with the memory, Rael preoccupied himself with walking to the tavern, where he assumed the rest of his unit would be.

As soon as he entered, the smell of the place hit him like a brick in the face. Just last night, Rael had slept behind a tavern before joining the military, but he had never been inside one until now. Soldiers sat around worn out, wooden tables. Some were playing cards, while most others were drinking. There was a bartender, and Rael thought asking him about where to find the other recruits would be the best course of action. As he walked over, one of the younger soldiers had butted an older one in the crotch with the hilt of his sword. He then grabbed the man's head and slammed it into a wooden table for added measure. The guy was knocked out cold, and the younger soldier walked over to the fireplace without giving it a second thought.

A few other soldiers had stopped to watch, but no one seemed to intervene. Perhaps fights like these were common amongst lower ranking soldiers?

"What can I get ya?" The bartender's question caught Rael off guard. The noble regained his composure.

"Nothing, thank you. I'd like to know where the other new recruits are."

"The boy you were watching earlier is one of them, if I'm correct." The bartender said with a sly grin. "That was a pretty good hit, huh?" He asked with a nasty, sneering voice. Then he let out a laugh.

"Thanks for your help" Rael wasn't interested in staying any longer. He walked over to where the young soldier had walked off to, which happened to be the fireplace. A second younger soldier had just finished lighting the fire, but Rael couldn't really see from where he was standing. The one who had just knocked out the drunk seemed pretty interested, however.

"Who taught you how to play with fire?" The one who just got out of a fight asked with a grin, right as the other one stood up and turned to face him.

[Chyoko]

Lilith sat in the back of the tavern, not hiding, but not making herself well known either. If there was one thing you could call this raven-haired young woman, it was smart. That was why she decided to stay away from the rowdy (and rather drunk) soldiers, none of which were women. It was a shame, but not at all a surprise. Lilith herself wouldn't be here if not for the draft, and she wouldn't be honoring the draft if her mind wasn't piqued.

Lilith was always on the look out for new intellectual rivals, and maybe war could provide that. She didn’t want fame, or skill in battle, or even to serve her home of four – almost five – years. No, what she wanted, what she always wanted, was knowledge. One could say her unquenchable thirst for knowing what others don’t lead her into dangerous situations.

Such as entering a bar because she had heard of a book she had wanted to read was kept by the bartender. It was a fascinating read, but spirits, she couldn’t concentrate for the life of her! She had been approached five times by drunken fools, and it was getting annoying! She had sent the last one away with a not so nice reminder of how to treat a lady, specifically a lady that was fond of cheap shots.

And apparently another man liked cheap shots, which was made apparent when he rammed the hilt of his sword right into another man’s groin. Amusing really, most men didn’t hit below the waist, as it was seemingly a taboo to do so. But then again, “The Storm” as she heard someone call him, had been drinking. How much he had drunk she couldn’t say, but he downed enough to go and pester some mage.

Lilith felt her brow crease slightly in recognition, she wasn’t certain, but she could almost swear she knew that face. Yes, she remembered him now. Quite a few years back her mother had dragged her to eastern Honara for a meeting with a renowned Anima master. He had a student named Warde, but his friends had always called him- “Wizzy.”

Lilith grinned slightly; his friends had called him that because he was supposedly smart. Perhaps she should save him from the wolves and engage him in a discussion about Geraden culture. They were the top enemies of Edea at the moment, and any new knowledge – if he had any to offer that is – would be a welcome distraction until General Thane arrived.

She rose from her seat, handing the book she had borrowed back to the bartender with a polite thank you, and made her way through the drunkards. More then once she had slapped away hands that belonged to some overly grabby men, while making her way to the now group of three standing next to the fire place.

“So who taught you how to play with fire?” ‘The Storm’ asked, making Lilith wince slightly. One does not play with magic unless one desires to die.

“A great man from Honara.” She spoke up, saving Warde the likely pain of having to discuss his late master. She had heard of his demise through word of mouth when she passed through Honara, she had remembered the trip she and her mother had taken, and had decided to call on him, but it had been to late. “It is nice to see you again after these many years, Warde.” Lilith grinned, she wondered if he would remember her, if not she wasn't so sure if he deserved the nickname Wizzy. Or her time for that matter.

[Rethel34]

Warde heard someone ask him a question, and he had turned, noticing the swordsman standing next to him, who was undoubtedly the source of the query. However, before he had the chance to answer, another - who was standing immediately behind the swordsman - had answered for him. The voice was the only female voice he had heard all day, and he recognized it almost immediately. It was the voice of Lilith, a girl he had seen only twice in his life.

"The girl would be correct. In fact," he said, addressing the girl, "I believe your name is Lilith, is it not? It's good to see you, too. I believe I've seen you on two occasions. Once was when your mother brought you when she met my master, and once when I was studying abroad in Jinn. I don't know if you noticed me the second time, as I only caught a glipse of you; I never forget a face." Now he turned to the swordsman. "I believe I have heard of you as well, Drake. I believe your nickname is 'The Storm'?" He smelled the bit of alcohol on his breath. "You aren't entirely sober, so I would advise being careful, for magic is not something to play games with. I don't believe you intended harm, so I will merely say, you should be wary. Alcohol isn't good for if you intend to fight soon."

He had hardly noticed the other man standing behind him, but now he turned to him. "You have yet to say anything, but your thoughts betray you. You are here looking for the troops who will be working for General Thane when he arrives." Warde smiled. "I think you're staring at the only others there are. For the moment, I would like to speak a little further with the lady, if the two of you would like to converse."

Warde came to Lilith's side, smiling at her, and asked, "Shall we find a table? Preferably away from a few of the drunkards here?"

[Veridis quo]

"You have yet to say anything, but your thoughts betray you. You are here looking for the troops who will be working for General Thane when he arrives." The mage smiled. "I think you're staring at the only others there are. For the moment, I would like to speak a little further with the lady, if the two of you would like to converse."

Rael raised an eyebrow. Converse? He wasn't necessarily itching for a battle, but Rael had not come here to socialize. The noble turned to the warrior beside him, who met his look with a sly grin.

Drake looked at the soldier beside him who had a raised eyebrow as well. It almost seems like they had the same thought. Except Drake wasn't exactly on a serious thought. "Why do I need to converse with this kid, he obviously hasn't seen true battle ever. What would we talk about besides maybe just an introduction?" he thought to himself. Drake decided he might as well converse with the kid after he had nothing better to do at this moment. Drake extended his hand for the kid to shake. "Names Drake Silvernail or The Storm as some people like to call me." He gave a sly grin to show the kid he wasn't such a big bad veteran.

"I'm Rael Windstill," The noble extended a hand for a firm handshake. To his surprise, Drake's grip was just as tight as his, which was something that wasn't too common among normal citizens. "It's good to meet you, Drake."

A loud boom was heard as a soldier had barged in through the bar's door. His voice was loud enough to grab everyone's attention.

"We need a few extra hands building the catapults!" The soldier proclaimed. He then hurried through the crowd and selected the men who seemed to be capable of doing some heavy lifting. Among them were Rael and Drake. The two joined a long line of soldiers, and were lead outside to the fields where carpenters and craftsmen were working diligently on cutting long bulks of lumber up and nailing pieces together. Rael's group, which also had Drake in it, was given the task of carrying logs of lumber across the yard. Each log was about the size of a tree-trunk, and four men had to lift the entire thing together. They rested the heavy log on their shoulders and lined up.

Drake felt the weight of the log on his shoulder and grunted to himself. This was more labor than he was used to. Which was strange to him, he had been trained and raised in combat and high risk situations. Yet somehow he never had to do anything like this. Now Drake wasn't exactly a weakling, he had strength to do this, but it just was a much different setting then he was raised to use it in. He turned his head to see the soldier who ran into the fort standing by the logs just watching everyone. He could feel the sweat dripping from his arms and his chin. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs getting sore from all the work and the weight. Drake laughed to himself a bit "I swear real soldiers like us are over here doing the dirty work while a loud gutless man tells us what do. I'd love to see him in combat." Drake was laughing, but at the same time sucking in breaths like it was the only thing keeping him up. Then he heard something he never had been asked before.

"Drake," Rael grunted in between dry heaves from the front of the line. "Have you ever fought in battle before?"

Drake, along with the other workers once they reached the destination for the log, set it down. He crouched a bit and put his hands on his knees breathing a bit hard. Drake looked up at Rael through his silver hair. "Are you serious? You don't know who I am? I'm the Storm, the fastest man in all Edea. And like a storm I cut through my foes like they were just made of sticks. My number of kills is in the hundreds. As a matter of fact I'm a legend around Edea. Which unfortunately gets me a good bit of attention and then you get people like the drunkard earlier who tried to pick a fight with me. Plus I'm the second in command next to General Thane for the little group I'm supposed to be fighting with."

"That's my group." Rael noted. He wasn't too sure of believing Drake's story just yet, but he assumed it was his turn to share his background. "I was raised on a farm by the countryside. So I'm not too familiar with anything that goes on in Edea. You could well be the prince, and a farmer like me would not know." Although he had been an assistant diplomat, Rael had never been too good at lying.

Drake raised an eyebrow at the story Rael told him. He nudged Rael, laughing a bit. "Yeah and I'm the King of Edea." he replied laughing while shaking his head. Anyone of these people could easily have been a farmer's kid, but there was a tone in the kids voice that wasn't very genuine, or that of a farmer.

"Alright, I want everyone's attention!" The soldier who had picked the workers earlier spoke out again with his booming voice. "Since you have all been working hard, we've decided to put together something nice for you. A few of my men are coming around to give you some meat. Enjoy your meal, you never know if it may be your last!"


As promised, a novice looking soldier walked over to where Rael and Drake had been sitting. The smell of cooked meat filled the air, and Rael had come to realize he could not deny the grumbling in his stomach. The novice soldier handed the meat over to each worker from a cart he was pulling. Rael received his, and was surprised with the quality of the meat. The thing sizzled, it must have just been cooked recently, and the meat looked to be of richer colour than usual. Something told Rael this must have been better than the normal food soldiers must have eaten. He gingerly moved aside his blue scarf, so as not to get any grime on it, and took a big, juicy bite. And he was right. This meat wasn't as great as the food the nobles had eaten back in Aurora, but it definitely wasn't something low quality that would have been fed to foot-soldiers on a regular basis. To his left, Drake had already started eating.

Guess there's some truth to what he said, Rael thought. The kid eats pretty fast.

---

Drake smelt the meat shrugging "Not half bad." He then grabbed it with his bare heads, tearing into it like it was his last meal. While he was eating he felt the juice dripping from his mouth and chin. Then he noticed Rael move his blue scarf away. He took another big chunk out of his meat before wiping his mouth and asking "So tell me, how does a farmer boy get such an elegant scarf huh?" This kid definitely wasn't telling the truth about his past. Plus no soldier would bring a scarf they were afraid of getting anything on to the forts. Now Drake wore silk clothing but that was because it was looser and allowed him to move around faster than armor or leather. The difference was he was a well known warrior and mercenary. This kid was new to fighting and he knew for a fact a farmer couldn't afford a scarf like that.

"It's my sister's." The words had absent-mindedly left Rael's mouth before he realized it. But what harm could come of telling a small part of what was true? In truth, he kept the beautiful scarf as a memento of his family, and of Saura, his younger sister. Perhaps, in time, he would let Drake know of his painful past. Without giving it any more thought, Rael took another bite out of the meat that he held with his bare hands, much to his displeasure that there were no dining utensils for him to use. Maybe he could dodge any further questions, for the while being, if he had his mouth full. Drake wasn't a bad kid, not in the slightest, and Rael had come to know that much. And if there was any semblance of truth to his "Legendary" story, Drake had the chance of becoming a reliable ally on the field of battle. That, in a world with no one else left, meant something for the noble.

Or perhaps, Rael pondered, watching from the corner of his eye as The Storm wolfed down his last bit of meat, Drake might become an honorable friend. Regardless of which of them was better on the field, Rael knew he'd be looking out for more than just his own back when the time came.

[Chyoko]

Warde came to Lilith's side, smiling at her, and asked, "Shall we find a table? Preferably away from a few of the louder patrons here?"

"I don't know if that's possible," Lilith laughed in response, "but they seem to enjoy sitting by the bar, probably because it's too hard to walk a few feet after drinking so much." She smiled at him, and took his arm, hoping this would keep a few of the men from being grabby. "So how have you been, are your studies going well?"

"I've definitely learned alot in my years of running around. So how does a girl like you end up in a place like this?" He pulled a chair out for her to sit down before taking a seat for himself.

"A book brought me to the tavern, but the draft brought me to the army." She frowned slightly. "I was hopping that the soldiers would be a little more disciplined, and have more women. But maybe the women just don't like coming to places like this. And what of you Warde? You never seemed like the person to waste time in a tavern."

"I came in for the warmth. As for the army, though, it's to get my mind off of the loss of my master, and everyone else. There may have been a few survivors when those brutes attacked, but I can't be sure." He summoned a tiny flame that he played with for a moment before moving it, as if upon a candle, to the center of the table, hovering a few inches above the surface to light the area a bit. "It's nice to speak with you. At least you're someone who possesses the same intelligence as I do. Unlike most of the fools around here." He allowed himself a small laugh at this statement.

Lilith smiled slightly, leaning forward. "While that might be true," she murmured, "don't forget that everyone has something to offer, whether it's words of wisdom, or a fist to the face. And I have a feeling these gentlemen here are the latter."

"I can't argue with that," Warde said. "You haven't even mentioned it yet, but do you remember what those 'friends' of mine called me back when you visited? Not saying that I want you to call me that, mind. I was just wondering how good your memory was."

"I figured it would be best not to call you that, though I did think about it. I honestly don't understand why you dislike the name Wizzy so much. In Jinn, a name like that would be a compliment, as I'm sure your travels have shown you. The one thing I miss about my home land is how most can carry a conversation, specifically about magic. Though I guess our fellow magic wielders had the same thought, as they all seem to migrate there. You're an Anima mage, are you not, Wizzy?" she grinned at her use of his childhood nickname, it would be interesting to see his reaction to it.

"Yeah." He actually smiled at the use of his nickname for once. "I think the reason I never liked the nickname was that it was never exactly a term of endearment from them. It was more of degradation. You don't use it the same way they did, though. Don't you use Dark Magic? My magic stems from nature, but Dark magic stems from knowledge of the physical world in general, I think. Perhaps even though we are both mages, we can learn extensively from each other in the workings of magic."

"Of course. I had actually shown compatibility for being an Animus mage, but it didn't interest me as much as Dark magic. But I would love to learn about it, even if it is just for knowledge of how it works. And of course I could show you how my own field of magic works as well." Lilith said, waving a hand over the floating flame Warde had made, and
encircling it with a dark orb, extinguishing it before the darkness disappeared as well. "Perhaps after this war we can even meet in combat as worthy adversaries. I would love to see how my powers fare against nature."

"I think you'd make more than a worthy adversary for me. Based on what I've learned, Dark Magic, as you just demonstrated, can break down the powers of nature and should the two clash, Dark has an easy advantage. However, should you find yourself fighting a mage of light, be on your guard. Light dispels Dark, though Nature can overpower Light. I have learned that this is referred to as the Trinity of Magic, and though it does not decide battles entirely, it is a good piece of information to keep in mind in combat against other mages." Warde felt proud that he could remember that piece of information so well. "Of course, should we study each other's strengths and weaknesses, I believe that even the Trinity will hold little ground should we combat each other."

"Of course." she said nodding. "But I believe The Trinity is just a way to constrict us. 'Nature can find a way even in darkness, darkness can smother the brightest light, and light can burn nature to dust. If you find no weakness in yourself, than neither can your opponent.' One of my favorite quotes from a philosopher who lived in Exotria."

Warde smiled. Everything one of them said, the other seemed to have a quick reply. He knew that when they fought, it would be a fierce fight indeed. "I feel almost as though I'm speaking to my master again. Of course, we're much closer in age than he and I were. And you're noticeably more attractive." Warde was stunned after saying his last sentence, as he had never said anything even hinting to his physical attraction to anyone before. He sat silent for a few moments afterward, hoping she might just dismiss the comment.

Lilith cocked an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. "A slip of the tongue?" she asked with a laugh.

"Perhaps." Warde felt his cheeks grow a bit warm from the blood, and he was suddenly very glad she had gotten rid of his flame. Maybe she wouldn't notice in the dimmer light. "Um...maybe we should get back with the others, I'd imagine the General will be here soon. I am sorry if I happened to...offend you...in any way."

"Of course," she chuckled, "for the record you aren't the first to say something like that, but you are the first to say it accidentally." Lilith chuckled, standing from her seat. "Let's go see to the rest of our team, I'm eager to be meeting them along with General Thane." With that, she left to find the others, who she had noticed went outside.

[Agta]

Polyla grunted. Her arm was heavy from lifting the dented, iron short sword. With the sword whipping up the dark woman pushed her helmet up from her brow. 'Damn' thing is too large', she cursed. The gesture cleared her field of vision - just in time to see the flash of steel swinging at her. Startled, Lyla hurled herself backwards. With big, round eyes she saw the, thank Gods, safely capped sword point swing past her nose. With her whole outfit slightly too big for her the manoeuvre let her stumble over her oversized boots. A bubble of laughter burst as she lay spread eagled in the courtyard's dirt. For a moment Lyla lay there, catching her breath. 'What did I get myself into?', she mused, 'I ain't no warrior!' When she'd collected her thoughts, she looked around for her sword. She must've dropped it. In the spot where she expected it, she found a set of worn down boots. Mirroring her own thoughts, the drill sergeant said, looking down on her: "Missy, you ain't much of a soldier". Silently Polyla struggled up, only nodding. With a sigh the sergeant handed her back her short sword. His low baritone addressed the other recruits as well: "Sword drill's over. Get yerself some grub in the mess!"

Relieved, Lyla pushed her sagging helmet back up again. She was glad the lessons had ended. Clearly she had no great talent in swordplay. Or perhaps her ability would improve if she wore a better fitting chainmail shirt. As the courtyard emptied the dark woman slunk back into the background making her way towards her temporary quarters. With aching muscles Polyla lightened herself of the chainmail shirt, used, dented helmet and the ill fitting shoulder guards. Minutes later, spurred on by a low growl in her stomache, she exited the quarters dressed in a bland, mouse gray outfit. Avoiding the bright sparkle of the evening torches, she made her way towards the mess hall.

Walking in with others of her class she swerved away from them, as soon as they'd entered the hall. They came in in such great numbers, that it would take the orderlies ages to serve them. Although Lyla's stomache cursed at her, she decided to bide her time. She'd go in for a plate of food, after the worst of the stampede had run it's rampant course. As Polyla found herself one of the darker corners of the mess to retreat to, she noticed another female from the corner of her eye. 'That's a first', she thought. 'Well apart from me, that is'. The Edean Army clearly had lost all it's scruples as it came to drafting women into it's ranks. Somehow it strengthened Lyla's resolve. She might not be the only gawky woman in this army after all. Quietly she leaned back against the wall, letting it cool her aching muscles, as she observed Lilith and her companion.

[Rethel34]

For a moment, Warde sat unmoving, and merely allowed Lilith to make her exit. He didn't even know himself why he had been motivated into calling Lilith attractive. He certainly wasn't lying about how he felt, but he knew that was the first time he had allowed his mind to ease, and he had said something he probably shouldn't have.

Standing from his seat, Warde shook his head. He stopped for a fraction of a second. His eyes had met with those of a girl a couple of tables away. He was careful not to show any emotion, as he didn't know her motives, and if she meant him harm, showing emotion could allow her to lure him into a trap. Warde took a deep breath, and turned away casually, carrying himself toward the same door Lilith had exited from. As he touched the doorknob, he turned his head slightly, only enough to view the table that he had thought he had seen the girl, but either he was looking at the wrong place, or she had left the table, or she was merely a figure conjured forth by his imagination, for there was no trace of her. Must be sleepiness, or something, he thought to himself.

Warde wandered down the halls of the fort and found himself at an exit where many people had been moving crates of equipment. He glanced around the crowd and caught a glimpse of a blue scarf. That was what he was looking for. He picked his way around a few people and got to the two men who had begun eating what looked, and smelled, like two delicious steaks (or he assumed them to be steaks; either way, it was meat). "Hello," Warde said, attempting to sound at least partway formal. "Sorry if I'm interrupting something, you two, but I bellieve General Thane will be here soon, won't he? If so, may want to continue feasting on the move. It would likely be better for all of us if we were all waiting for him at attention rather than lounging around, don't you think?"

[Skieth]

Drake had a big piece of meat hanging out of his mouth when little mage they call Warde came over to him. He heard the kid tell him they needed to leave so they could wait on General Thane. Drake took another bite of his meat finishing it off. He wiped the juice from his mouth with his arm and gave the mage a glare. "Alright kid your going to have to get something in your genius little mind. First I'm your superior I give you orders not the other way around. Secondly, I don't care about this war. The only reason I'm even here is so I can keep you kids alive long enough, so you can leave in one piece. Then you can get the hell out of here and not have to deal with the pain that comes with war." he said looking him dead in the eye not taking his eye off of Warde for a second ,"Got it... kid.?" He then made his way to the front of the fort where the doors are. "If you still want to proceed to the thing that will kill the rest of what makes you innocent follow me through this door. If you don't think you can handle what is about to come I suggest you take the next horse out of here." Drake said a caring tone. This tone and general caring was not part of his usual character so it got allot of quizzing looks from around the fort.

Once Drake waited to see if any of the kids wanted to leave he opened up the doors to the world he knew best. Lines of soldiers were gathering around the armory to get the tools they needed to kill. He saw one boy, who called himself a soldier, huddled in the fetal position crying under the shade of oak tree crying his heart out. The soldier didn't look familiar so more than likely he was a recruit who can't even take the thought of war. Drake didn't go to talk to him as far as he was concerned he was already out of the war. He then made his way to the spot where he was told to meet Thane. He had fought alongside Thane before in another battle years ago. He was a great warrior worthy of anyone's respect. He only hated that Thane was one of the many men close to the very king in charge of these jokes.